


Stay On The Path

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: ABDL, Brainwashing, Breastfeeding, Diapers, Forced Feminization, Humiliation, Mind Control, Other, Pants wetting, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 00:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18021050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Casey's car breaks down, and he runs into someone in the woods.





	Stay On The Path

Casey Shapiro was drunk. 

He wasn't _very_ drunk - he had been very drunk, and it hadn't felt like this. He was a reasonable amount of drunk, if one could refer to drunkenness as being reasonable. He wasn't at his limit. He'd know if he was at his limit. 

He probably shouldn't have been driving drunk, but it didn't really... count as drunk driving, if he did it when he was on some deserted dirt road in the middle of nowhere, right? It wasn't as if he was going to hit anyone - he was driving through a winding road in the middle of a forest which was, in turn, in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes, he wished that he didn't live in the middle of nowhere - wished he lived someplace that had, for example, a robust public transportation system, or where an Uber didn't cost fifty bucks just to get him from the bar to his own house.

But he also wished he had a million dollars and a two foot penis. If he was going to dream big, he might as well dream big, right?

The trees were going by very quickly, and he was holding on to the wheel very tightly. Everything seemed to be happening quickly and slowly at the same time - the trees were practically running away from him, but his thoughts were moving through taffy. He'd been driving since he was sixteen, at least, so he wasn't worried about anything unexpected happening. Admittedly, as drunk as he was, he wasn't worried about much of anything. 

What was the worst that could happen? He was twenty one years old, and he knew that death was a thing that happened to other people. Not to the likes of him. 

Then the deer ran up in front of his car. 

He wasn't even thinking when he swerved - he should have slammed on the brakes, but when he was a teenager in driver's ed, he had seen a video of a deer going all the way through a guy's windshield, kicking the guy in the head. He didn't want to get kicked in the head. He swerved, and slammed on the brakes, nearly hitting a tree. His airbags didn't deploy, thankfully, but he sat there, clutching the wheel with two hands and panting like he'd been running a race. He was trembling, his heart beating wildly in his chest, sweat dripping down his back. 

"Fuck," Casey said, and his voice cracked. "What the fuck." 

It had been a deer - he knew the shape of a deer anywhere. They were all over the place, around here. So why was he so terrified? Probably just the near death experience. Driving around late at night could do that to you, couldn't it? He was aware that he was having all of his feelings... elsewhere. He was existing, here and now, over to the left of everything else. He was just existing. 

Had he wet himself? He didn't _think_ he'd wet himself, but he wasn't sure just now. 

"Fuck," he said again. 

His car was still going, at least, and when he got his shaking under control, and turned the wheel, and started to drive forward. He'd go home, he'd take some aspirin, he'd do his best to relax. He was going to have one _hell_ of a headache, when he sobered up. 

"Or maybe some hair of the dog," Casey said, and he laughed, in that specific way of drunks. 

And then his car died.

It wasn't a subtle thing, or even gradual. One minute, he was driving, the next, he just... wasn't. Everything shut down, from the lights in the dashboard to the engine itself. It didn't even have the check engine light, or the little 'ding' that the car made when it was stalled.

It was as if the very warmth had been pulled out of it. 

"That's weird," said Casey, and he looked, uncomprehending. He was sitting in a dark car, no lights, no _nothing_. There weren't any cars coming, there weren't any houses along the road. There weren't even lights - just darkness, with a glimmer of light from the city far off in the distance. 

Casey's stomach sank down towards his knees, although maybe some of that was the booze that was still coursing through him. He groped around for his cell phone, only to find it dead as well - super dead. It was cold, with nary a light to be seen. 

"I'm gonna get murdered," Casey said, and maybe his voice sounded resigned, or maybe he sounded crazed - he honestly wasn't sure. He felt a little bit like he was going to burst out laughing, any second now. "Or maybe I'll be put in a human centipede or something."

There was nobody around to tell him to shut up, which was nice in its own way - people usually complained about Casey's jokes, or his film references. His girlfriend always got mad about that.

... Shit, his girlfriend was still mad at him, wasn't she? It wasn't his fault that he'd been macking on Susan - they were both drunk, so what was the harm? Only Sam - his girlfriend - had been even more mad at him then she needed to be, all things considered, and it left him kinda... stuck. 

Which was why he was driving home drunk in the middle of nowhere in the first place. Why did Sam have to live in the middle of nowhere in the first place? 

Casey sat brooding in his cold, dark car for almost five minutes, before finally coming back to himself. Okay. He needed to... what? Maybe walk around a bit, see if he could find any houses or something. He remembered, when he was younger, he'd had a friend who lived along a long highway like this. The guy's house had been set so far back from the road that the light hadn't been visible from the road. So okay.

He just had to walk along the road, until he hit a house. How hard could that be, huh? It was just a road. It went in one direction, his car was at the other end. And hey, _really_ worst case scenario, someone would have to come along when the sun came up, right? This _was_ the middle of nowhere, but people in the middle of nowhere still needed to get to work in the city, so it'd be fine.

It would all be perfectly fine.

* * *

Casey walked for what felt like forever. He kept steady with the white long down the middle of it, his hands in his pockets. He would have whistled, if he knew how to whistle. As is the way of drunks, his brain cascaded down a whole new train of thought - _Anyone can whistle_ , and watching that movie with his father when he was a kid. His dad had insisted, that the lady starring in that movie had been a real babe. What had her name been? Rita Hemsworth? Hedy Lamarr? He didn't remember - his dad was always trying to get him to appreciate that old stuff, although he'd never understood why. Some of it had been pretty good, come to think of it, but... still.

He had, if nothing else, developed an appreciation for older women. He liked younger women as well, to be sure - admittedly, at his age, the only women who qualified as "younger" to him were pretty much in high school or just out of it, which... no. He was still thinking about all of that - slowly, _very_ slowly, because his head was starting to hurt, and his stomach was starting to complain as well, to say nothing of his knees and his ankles and his feet - when he saw the flicker of light. 

It wasn't exactly the kind of light that he had been looking for - he had been hoping for the simple, steady light of a window. This looked like someone's camp fire. Still, people camping usually had shit like satellite phones or stuff like that, right? He'd gone on a camping trip with his summer camp, back when he was a kid, and the nature counselors had always had satellite phones.

It was perfect. Although he'd have to get off of the road and walk into the forest to go towards the fire, and something about that was sending his stomach into anxious, twisting fits. He remembered all those stories he'd read as a child - _don't go off the path, don't go into the forest._ Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, and who knew how many others. The forest was full of teeth and glittering eyes, the forest was full of things that ate bad little children. 

Casey shook his head vigorously, coming back to himself, more or less. It was just a forest in upstate New York. Nothing was going to come after him - it was just a forest. He was a grown ass man, not a little kid. He'd be fine. 

And flickering light, even a flickering light, was better than the endless darkness going along the road. So with a shiver and a straightening of his spine, Casey turned to face the light, and began to walk. 

* * *

There was a figure sitting by the fire, poking it with a long stick. They were wearing an old pair of jeans, and what looked like a big, floppy sweater. They looked up towards him as he approached - he assumed they looked up, at any rate. He saw their head move.

"Hello," Casey called out, and then realized, somewhat belatedly, that calling out to a strange person while completely outlined in the brightness of the fire might be a bad idea. 

"Hello," the person called back, and Casey was almost certain it was a woman. "You look like you're not from around here."

_What does she mean, not from around here? There's no "here" to be from around in the first place._

"My car broke down," said Casey. "I, uh, I nearly hit a deer, and then my car just kinda... broke down."

"Did you hit the deer?" She seemed to be staring at him very intently.

"No, I didn't," said Casey. "At least, I don't think I did?" He hadn't seen any blood or whatever on the grill of his car, which was the important part. "No, I didn't."

"Okay, good," said the woman, and then she patted the ground by her. "Come sit with me.”

Casey stood across from her, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Some old instinct was telling him to run, and to never stop running.

She smiled at him, the firelight doing eerie, bright things rto her eyes, and he ignored his instincts and sat down across from her, looking at her over the fire. 

“I can’t stay long,” he told her. “I was hoping I could use your phone.”

“No service, I’m afraid,” she said. 

“Don’t you have a satellite phone?” His stomach was dropping again, although he couldn’t entirely find it in himself to be too angry. 

She looked at him sidelong. “Why would I have a satellite phone?” 

“Isn’t that something that you bring along with you when you go camping?” Casey was aware that he sounded… awkward. Very awkward. He wasn’t sure how to turn that off. 

She rested her chin on her palm, her elbow on her thigh. “Have you ever gone camping before?”

“A long time ago,” said Casey. “It was with my summer camp, when I was a little kid.” 

“A summer camp, eh?” She looked around. “Not exactly summertime, though.”

“It’s not summer _yet_ ,” countered Cassie. 

“Well, no,” said the woman. “Using that same kind of logic, it’s not winter _yet_.”

“We just had winter,” said Casey. 

“Yeah, but it’ll be _back_ ,” said the woman. It sounded a little bit like she was laughing at him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but then again, he was drunk. 

“Everything will be _back_ , things are always happening as they happen,” said Casey. Was he making any sense? 

Wow, he _was_ drunk. 

"That's a very circular way of looking at things," said the woman. Her eyes were very deep, and the firelight caught highlights in them. He stared into her eyes, and he tried not to get lost in them. She was very beautiful, but there was something about her face that he didn't entirely... understand. Something that spoke to something old and creepy, in the very back of his mind.

"Everything is circular," he countered. "Isn't there a whole hymn about that? Everything turns." It felt a bit like he was debating some of the philosophy students, only instead of sitting around a table set up for beer pong, he was sitting across from some strange woman with a hard to read face. 

"Do you have a girlfriend, Casey?" The subject change was abrupt that he was a bit worried about whiplash.

_Did_ he have a girlfriend? Sam was probably mad at him, what with the making out, but she'd get over it. She always did. "Why?"

"Just curious," said the woman. "If you've got one... wouldn't she be worried about you right now?"

"She's mad at me," said Casey, and he wasn't really expecting himself to be quite so... candid. He liked to at least _think_ he played things a little closer to the vest. But something about her face just made him want to spill all of his secrets.

"Well, that's a shame," said the woman. 

"I should probably get back to the road," Casey said, looking over his shoulder towards the way he'd come. Or at least, what he assumed was the way he'd come. Everything seemed to be a bit turned around - the woods were deep and dark. The way the trees loomed over him reminded him of being a little kid and going out amongst his parent's, when they were having a party. Being surrounded by all of those adults who were all so much bigger than he was. 

"I've got a place to sleep a little up ahead," said the woman. "You could stay with me until the morning, then go back to your car when you can see where you're going?" 

Her offer was _very_ tempting, but he should have gone back to the road, head towards the distant light of civilization. He needed to get home at something approaching a normal hour, so he could apologize to Sam and get things more or less sorted out. 

Sam was always good after he'd groveled enough, thank fuck. She was pretty easy to win over. 

The woman on the other side of the fire stretched, and he saw the push of her breasts against the front of her sweater - she had big breasts, and he imagined pressing his face in between them, holding the fullness of them in the palms of his hands. 

It wasn't as if Sam would be able to walk in on him messing around with this woman, if he decided to, right? He'd be fine. 

"Sure," said Casey, "I'll go with you to your place."

She smiled at him, and the firelight made her face look downright _ghoulish_ , all shifting shadows and bright highlights. "I had a feeling you'd say that," she told him, and she stood up, offering him her hand.

He stood up as well, and he took it. Her fingers were very strong, and they closed around his, squeezing them hard enough that it was borderline uncomfortable. She began to walk - didn't even put out the fire, just began to walk into the darkness.

"Shouldn't you... uh, make the fire stop burning?" He looked over his shoulder, but the fire was gone. There was no light, no crackling, no nothing - just the two of them walking through the darkness, the stars wheeling overhead, the trees standing like sentinels. 

"It's stopped," she said, her voice serene. She was walking very fast, and her steps were very quiet. He sounded like an avalanche walking after her, breaking twigs, crunching through the leaves. She was taller than he'd thought - he'd thought she was a little shorter than he was, when he'd first seen her, but no. She was taller than him, it turned out. Not by much, but enough that he was starting to pant as he tried to keep up with her.

"What's your name?" He was panting now, trying not to trip. She was walking even faster, almost running, and somehow she wasn't hitting any of the myriad of trees around them. 

She ignored him, turning left and right, weaving through the trees. He was already hopelessly lost, and he tried to ignore the fear that was beginning to curdle in the pit of his stomach. Maybe she _was_ a serial killer, although who'd ever heard of a female serial killer? There was that one lady, the one they'd made the movie about, with Charlize Theron, but there had to be other ones, right?

They were running now, flat out running, and he was panting. When they finally stopped, he looked over at her, sweat dripping down his face, along his back, down his sides. "Are you... are you a serial killer?" It just popped out of his mouth, before he had a chance to think.

"No," she said, and she laughed. "No, I'm not a killer." They were emerging into a clearing now, a big, empty space. There was an old tent in the middle of it, made of skins. "I live there."

"What, really? All the time?" Did people really live in tents like that? That didn't seem like something people... did in the modern age.

"I do, sometimes," she said. "I have other places I stay as well." She walked towards the tent, and she pushed one of the skins to the side, indicating for him to go into it. 

He stooped down, crawling in, and then he frowned. This place was a lot bigger on the inside than he'd thought it was. He hadn't realized that was a thing that could happen. Maybe he had just misjudged it because of the darkness. 

It was a big tent - he could have lain down fully length without touching any of the walls. There were more piles of furs scattered around, and what looked like a fire pit in the middle. It felt like being on the set of some kind of movie - not the kind of movie he'd watch, admittedly, but he'd caught glimpses of them, when Sam watched them. Everything was dim, but there was a faint glow - just enough for him to make out shapes. He wasn't sure what it was that was glowing - maybe she'd dropped a glow stick, or something like that?

"Let me get you something to drink," said the woman, and she was ducking out of the tent, to get... something. 

"Sure," he called after her. "Sounds good." He sat there, his knees drawn up to his chest, and he stared into the empty fire pit. He could make out the rough shape of logs, and the whole place smelled like wood smoke and old leather. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, to be sure, but it seemed to be invading his whole head, making it harder to think in a straight line. Everything seemed to be happening a long way off, but also right there at the same time. 

Casey was shaken awake by the woman - she had lit the fire in the middle of the tent, and the crackling of it sounded almost like someone talking to him quietly. He wanted to strain his ears, to hear it a little closer. 

"Here," said the woman, handing him a cup. 

He drank it without thinking, swallowing - it was thick and creamy, lightly sweet. It coated his mouth and throat almost immediately, and he licked his lips. It was filling him up already, and in his drunken state, it was one of the most delicious things he'd ever tasted. 

"Do you like it?" Her eyes were focused on his face, although there was something... different about her face. It seemed to be getting longer, but that made no sense, because people's faces didn't get longer.

"Yeah," he said. "It's delicious." He drank some more, trying to place the flavor. He couldn't entirely put his thumb on it - something about it reminded him of melted vanilla ice cream, but it lacked the overwhelming sweetness - this was subtle. It was still thick though, the kind of thick that might have been off putting, if it didn't taste so good.

"That's good," she said. "Do you mind if I get more comfortable?" She tugged on the hem of her sweater, and he had visions of those glorious breasts of hers being freed. 

"Certainly," he said, and he tried not to sound too interested, or too... well, gross about it. 

She pulled her sweater up and over her head, and he stared, entranced. She seemed to be wearing some kind of furry shirt under it. It wasn't until he looked at her breasts that he realized that she wasn't wearing a furry shirt - she _was_ furry. He looked along the line of her, from her navel to her breasts (also covered in fur), all the way to her face.

Her face, which was no longer a woman's face, but a deer's. There was the long, delicate, tapering muzzle, there were the liquid eyes. Her ears were huge, swiveling like a satellite dish, and there was a rack of antlers rising out from her temples, a crazy array of points in all different directions. 

“You’re not human,” Casey said. The anxiety that had been building in his belly seemed to be getting thicker, stronger, trying to crawl out of him like some big worm. The milk in his stomach churned.

“No,” said the woman. “I’m not.” Her voice was very calm. 

“Why are you… what did you do to me?” He was getting dizzy, getting sleepy, and he was sagging into the pile of furs next to him.

“I didn’t do anything to you, sweet thing,” she told him, and she reached out a hand - a hand with dark, hard nails. She cupped his cheek, and where she touched him, his skin… changed. He didn’t know how he knew that it was changing, but how he knew he couldn’t explain. But her hands were going across his face, and his skin was getting softer. 

“What are you doing?” He said, or at least, he tried to say. He was getting shorter as well, or she was getting taller - she was pulling him closer, his face in her breasts. 

“Sh,” she said, and then she was… she was guiding her nipple into his mouth, holding him closer. “Drink.”

“I -”

“You’ve already drunk my milk,” she said, “so what’s wrong with a little more?” She was holding him close to her, sitting on the floor, her back straight. He was half draped over her lap now, and she was pressing down on his jaw. 

Something she did was making him swallow - she didn’t know what it was, but it was happening, and her sweet, thick milk was filling his mouth, going down his throat. He kept swallowing and swallowing, as she pulled apart the buttons of his shirt, her hands running over his chest. His skin was getting softer, and there was a prickly sensation - _my body hair is pulling back into my body_ he thought, and the terror at that thought was sliding along his mind like a snake. 

“You’re just a greedy little baby, aren’t you?” She was cooing at him, as her hands moved lower, pulling open his pants. She was so _strong_ \- she just… pulled, and it broke his belt, leaving him naked. Her hands were on his groin now - more of the prickle, stealing away his pubic hair. She was holding his penis in her hand, and it was getting smaller, softer - all of him was getting softer, and he didn’t know what to do about that. He pulled away - or at least, he tried to. She was holding on to him tightly, and then she had let go, and was pressing down on his temple with a finger. “Little babies are a lot more timid than that, aren’t they?” 

His mind was being... changed. Full on changed - there were neurons being rerouted, chemicals being altered. Fear loomed large in his head, and... other things. Things he didn't understand, whether because they were beyond human understanding, or because he was just too... something to understand them now. 

"You're going to be good for me, aren't you, Cassie?" The woman moved him to her other nipple, and he latched on automatically this time, beginning to suck on instinct. More milk, and as he drank the milk, he changed.

Your body is your body, and even if you don't know exactly how it works, you know when something about it is being changed. 

_My name is Casey,_ he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth, more milk drooled out, and she tsked, wiping his chin with one of her thumbs. 

"Oh, honey, look at that mess. You're nothing but a big, messy baby, aren't you? You're a baby who needs to be watched over by a big, strong woman to keep you from getting in trouble. You get into a lot of trouble, don't you?" She slid her thumb into his mouth, and he latched on to that, too - he was going to suck on anything that was put in his mouth, wasn't he? 

He sucked on her thumb, staring up into her alien eyes, and she smiled at him - or at least, he assumed she was smiling at him. She had so many teeth, and some of them were very, very sharp. Did deer have sharp teeth? It didn't seem like they did. But then again, deer also didn't walk on two legs, or talk. His stomach was churning, already so full of her milk. 

There was magic, or alchemy, or... _something_ working over him, something that was leaving him slow to think, and his whole body felt different. She was standing him up now, and he wobbled - his legs felt different. It was hard to keep his balance. His pants were too long now, and she bent down in front of him, to pull them up and off. 

"Look at you, sweetheart. Such a good baby girl for me." She was cooing at him, a sweet, babyish tone, and it was making him blush. He wanted to disappear forever, he wanted her to stop looking at him like that, but she just smiled, cupping his cheek. "This suits you much more, darling."

He shook his head slowly, her thumb still in his mouth, and then she was withdrawing her hand, and she was grabbing his wrist, pushing his thumb into his mouth. 

"There we go. That's my good little Cassie."

Cassie - no, _Casey_ , his name was Casey - could feel his face wrinkling up, his chin beginning to shake, his eyes welling up. He was crying - ugly crying, bawling like a baby, right there in the tent. 

"Oh, honey, poor baby," said the woman, and she was being... so condescending, as she pulled him forward, pressing his face into her breasts, and he sobbed like his heart was breaking. 

It kind of was, wasn't it? 

Already, his old life felt... far away. Unrelated. Some part of him firmly believed that he'd been in this tent for ages - that he'd just sprung into being in this tent, and he'd always been Cassie, and she was his whole world.

No, his name was Casey. His name was Casey, and he had to make his way back to the road, he had to go back to his car, he had to go _home_. 

"Wanna go home," he mumbled, although his voice sounded different - higher, and he had a babyish lisp. 

"Let's get you home," the woman agreed. She was getting... something, and he didn't know what it was, but there was something criss-crossing across his chest, and she was holding on to it. "Can you walk, Cassie, or do you need me to carry you?"

"Walk," Cassie said. He'd meant to say _I can walk_ , but some of the words got stuck in his mouth, and all that came out were the bits of them. But it'd be fine. It'd all be fine.

* * * 

The woman was walking slowly, and she was holding on to the leash. He was still having trouble keeping up - she had to stop for him to catch his breath. She was talking to him the whole time, although he didn't entirely understand what it was. Large chunks of it was in a language he didn't understand. 

It was weird - even though they were walking, the scenery didn't seem to... change. They walked by trees, they walked by rocks - they seemed to walk by the _same_ trees and rocks. The moon didn't move, the stars stayed the same. No animals peered out at them, and there was no howling or growling coming from around them. It was dark - she navigated around sure-footedly, but he nearly tripped several times. 

At some point, he wet himself. He wasn't really paying attention - one second, he was picking his way across the darkness, trying not to trip on any rocks or twigs. He stopped then, wetness and heat soaking into his underwear, and then he was crying again, his head thrown back, wailing up to the sky. 

"What's the matter, Cassie?" The woman stopped, turning around. She crouched in front of him, and then she was looking at his waist. "Oh, honey, you had an accident, didn't you? That's okay. Let's change you out of that, we'll put you in something more suited for you."

He was blinking at her owlishly as she spread a blanket out on the ground - when had she gotten the blanket? Where had she been carrying it? He was quiet, sucking his thumb and staring up at the stars as she pulled his wet pants off of him. Then she was wiping down his crotch and his thighs with a warm cloth, before she was... pinning something around him.

"There we go," she said, her voice sweet. "A nice clean diaper for my little sissy girl."

"No," Cassie mumbled, covering his face. 

"Yes," the woman said. "You're my little sissy. My good girl. I know someone who's going to take _excellent_ care of you." Instead of letting him keep walking, she lifted him up, balancing him on her hip. 

He clutched at her, the fur on her chest soft against his fingers. He pressed his face into her neck, shy, and she bounced him, then kissed his cheek. 

"We're almost there," she told him. "I know a nice lady who'll take good care of you. She wants a good baby girl."

He kept shaking his head, but she just kept walking. There was a distant speck of light in the distance, and now she was walking towards it. Seeing it approach filled him with dread, although he couldn't have told you why. He just... didn't want it. He didn't want to go anywhere near there.

It turned out to be a house - an old house, out in the middle of nowhere. He didn't know anything about how to describe houses - if it was a Victorian or a townhouse or... whatever - but it looked out of place, surrounded by the trees. The garden was surrounded by a fence, and there were roses growing between the slats. The porch light glowed orange, like some kind of jewel. 

"Here we are," said the woman, and she opened the gate, making her way towards the front door and knocking on the door.

The woman who opened the door was older - she had brown skin, and was on the plump side. She looked like the woman had looked, before the whole... deer thing. They were even about the same height, minus the deer woman's rack of antlers.

"I brought you something, Marie," said the deer woman. 

"Oh, look at this sweet little baby girl," said Marie, and she was smiling. "Does she need a good, loving home?"

"She does," said the deer woman, setting Cassie down onto the porch. "She's a good little girl, once you get past her defenses." 

Marie rested a hand on top of Cassie's head, and Cassie couldn't even be bothered to shake it off. "I'll take good care of her," Marie promised.

"Good," said the deer woman, and she bent down, so that her face was level with Cassie's. "I'll be back to babysit." 

Cassie looked up at Marie, face screwing up. Could Marie be convinced...?

"You're just a sissy baby girl," said Marie, her tone sweet. "You need looking after, don't you?" 

Cassie sighed.

"I'll be going now," said the deer woman, and she stood up straight, and turned around. She walked out of the golden circle cast by the porch light, and then she was disappearing into the trees.

Cassie looked up at Marie again, and Marie smiled. 

"We're gonna have fun, baby girl," she said, and she patted Cassie's cheek.

And Cassie knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was trapped.


End file.
